100 Secrets, Moments, and Memories
by StormOfTheNorth
Summary: There's always more to a story than meets the eye. 2 people. 100 themes. 10,000 words.
1. 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

**AN:** **Woohoo! Another story! (although I should be updating my other ones *shot*) I will most probably finish this one too :D**  
**Okay, so this is WaterAngel-Alyssa's 100 theme challenge, (go check it out!) Basically, you have to write 100 words, for 100 themes, each in ten minutes. For any fandom too! Yay!**

**I'm going to do upload 5 per chapter, so I will end up with 20 chapters total.**

**They will be focused on Ellen and Keats (both individually or together), however other characters will have little cameos XD**

**Okay? On with the story!**

**Disclaimer: Folklore is not mine T_T**

* * *

**1. Beginning**

A timid university student who found it difficult to make friends. An antisocial journalist writing for an occult magazine. Who knew that this strange duo would end up traversing numerous realms of the afterlife? That they would command an army of creatures by first absorbing their souls? That they would solve the mystery that haunted a lonely village for 17 years? That they would one day become the heroes of the Netherworld?

That these two unlikely people would one day be able to call each other friends.

Yet many great tales spoke of humble beginnings, and this was no exception.

* * *

**2. Dream**

"I keep having these weird dreams..."

Keats peered at her curiously. This was generally not the type of conversation you have with a professional acquaintance.

Okay, to be fair, the young woman was a bit more than an acquaintance by now. Just a bit, though.

"Ah…"

Silence.

"I-I think they might be connected to the Netherworld…" Ellen trailed off, suddenly looking like she was regretting ever pursuing the topic. Keats shook his head with a sigh.

"Well, go on then, tell me about them."

_It's not so bad, playing therapist_, Keats thought as he watched Ellen's face light up immediately.

* * *

**3. Wave**

"…So a wave is a series of disturbances, in which crests and troughs, or compressions and rarefactions, are created depending on their direction of oscillation." Keats stated.

"Mmhm…"

Ellen had long since zoned out, opting to gaze at the beach instead. Keats coughed.

"Your loss."

"I asked a _simple_ question," Ellen muttered.

"And I gave you a simple answer," Keats retorted. Ellen looked exasperated. It wasn't quite the answer she was looking for. She raised her hand and moved it back and forth in front of his face.

"What?" he said. Ellen giggled.

"_That_, was a wave."

Keats almost face-palmed.

* * *

**4. Reflection**

Logical, level-headed, and skeptical. That was what Keats was. Today would've been no different, if he hadn't noticed something strange in Dr. Lester's house, while Keats was talking to said doctor.

"Excuse me, but is your mirror a bit foggy?" Keats enquired. Dr. Lester looked startled. "No…my wife cleaned it this morning…"

Later that evening, Keats sat on the couch, exhausted. Try as he might to rationalize it, he was certain of what he saw. Everything in that mirror was crystal clear, except himself. His outline, his features, all of him was inexplicably blurred.

As if he were a ghost.

* * *

**5. Pure**

"Uwee hee hee, Ellen, wouldn't the world would be a better place if everyone had a painful past like yours?"

Ellen blanched at Scarecrow's suggestion. "Heavens, no! I would never want anyone to experience that."

"Hee hee, you're so kind, Ellen."

It was true. The woman was completely pure of heart.

_Poor girl_, Scarecrow thought, hours after their encounter, _She's had it rough._

Her dreams of peace would never be realized like this! What's a halflive to do? Then it struck him. He grinned. His plan couldn't go wrong.

After all, he only wished for Ellen's happiness above all else.

* * *

**Fin! Some are a little random 0_o" tell me what you think!**  
**-BLITZ**


	2. 16 , 8 , 54 , 33 , 77

**AN:** **I guess I won't do these in order... Haha! Relax, it just means updates will come faster. Except I think the last chapter will consist of the last 5 themes, like the first chapter had the first 5.**  
**Also, these are set pretty much any time, whether before during or after the game. Aaaaaan maybe I'll add AU. Not sure yet though.**

**Enjoy!**

**

* * *

**

**16. Laugh**

Ellen bit her lip, fighting a losing battle in an attempt to suppress the mirth bubbling up inside her. Abruptly it burst out of her; free, uncontrolled, and…

…utterly maddening. All because she accidentally knocked his Id out of him.

"Oh! Ohh…" Ellen gasped for breath. "I'm sorry Keats, it's just that I didn't know!" She swiped at her eyes, caught sight of him, and doubled over once more.

"All halflives have Ids," Keats huffed, glaring at her. "And it's not_ that_ funny."

"Yes it is!"

"…You did it on purpose didn't you?"

Flushed with amusement, Ellen started laughing again.

**

* * *

**

**8. Paint**

Ellen stared at the slender, wooden object in her right hand. Raising her left, she brought her fingertips to stroke the bristles at the end. Smooth, soft, precise. Ellen smiled.

She had spotted it in the hut, after some searching. She frowned a little, looking for something more.

Then, a grin made its way onto Ellen's face. She found the paints.

...

Keats approached her in the pub that evening.

"Found any more clues?"

"Ah! No, have you?"

Keats smirked. "Of course."

"Oh…"

Ellen decided not to tell him she had spent the whole afternoon painting her room.

* * *

**54. Snow**

Ellen pranced around happily in the gentle cascade of snow falling from blanketed heavens. Keats, however, merely surveyed the shades of glittering white, the frosted trees, and the snow faeries laughing in the distance, with marked interest.

What thoughts could have created this Realm?

A hand waved in his face.

"Do you like the snow too, Keats?" Ellen gushed brightly. "Oh!"

Quickly she poked her tongue out to catch a falling snowdrop. Keats blinked. He leaned forward, paused, then…

…brushed off a stray snowflake in Ellen's hair.

Keats smiled crookedly at Ellen's notably red expression.

"Hmm, I believe I do."

**

* * *

**

**33. Animal**

Ellen shivered as she watched him. It wasn't often that he joined her in the Netherworld, but she needed his help, and he in turn; reluctantly accepted that he needed hers.

The faeries had described her as powerful, but Keats was something else.

The Durandal fell with a cry, as Keats rained blow after blow on it. Ellen caught up with him, just after he reverted from his transcended state, looking slightly dazed.

"Alright?" Ellen asked quietly. Keats stared at her, before nodding once.

"Next one's yours," he said, moving forward again.

He truly was a beast on the battlefield.

* * *

**77. In the rain**

Ellen stood near the gravestones of the church cemetery, head bowed. Tentatively, she moved towards one in particular, and knelt beside it.

"I'm sorry you had to..." Ellen swallowed. "...pass away."

Regaining her composure, Ellen continued.

"I wanted to thank you… Without you, I wouldn't be here. But…"

Ellen's voice softened to a whisper. "I wish you were still here."

A drop fell from the sky, onto the stone slab. Another followed, and when the clouds couldn't contain their grief any longer, Ellen released the emotions her soul had yearned to pour out ever since her best friend had died.

* * *

**Last one's a little sad D:  
Keats has an Id doesn't he? O_o;; I remember seeing that scarecrow had one, so why not? XD**

**Till next time!  
-BLITZ**


	3. 10, 61, 35, 41, 21

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********

**AN: Hello again! Back with a new update :D I've decided not to have anything AU... Maybe I'll leave that for another story XD Maybe. Can't promise no OOC-ness though! ^^ I'm trying to have a mix of funny (?) ones, serious ones, and "awww"-worthy ones 8D Okay, read on!  
**

**

* * *

**

**10. Shine**

Ellen likes to polish the medallion around her neck. So much so, that Keats complains about it to her. He is temporarily blinded by it, when it catches a ray of sunlight and redirects it towards his eyes.

Ellen apologizes, mumbling something incoherent, but could be interpreted as "force of habit." Keats narrows his eyes, but says nothing.

After making sure he is out of sight, Ellen pulls a cloth from her jacket pocket and starts to polish again.

She hums merrily, knowing she's finally getting him back for all those times his glasses do the same thing to her.

**

* * *

**

61. Butterfly

Keats did not care much for the glittering butterflies that magically manifested whenever he touched a Netherworld portal. It suited Ellen just fine, but a man like himself? It just didn't fit ("Pretty." Ellen had giggled, as she watched Keats return to Doolin).

"Belgae," Keats began, when he saw the halflive moving towards him.

"Why butterflies?"

"Pardon?"

"I mean, what's with all the sparkly nonsense around the portals?" Keats asked, gesturing towards one several feet from where they were.

"Who knows? I quite like them myself," Belgae said, slightly embarrassed. Keats could only watch speechlessly as he hastily walked away.

* * *

**35. Free**

Keats didn't worry about the meaning of his existence. Or rather, he chose not to think about it too often. He was busy with his work, anyway. He couldn't afford to stop typing, because his deadlines always seemed to chase after him like angry tax collectors. If he stopped typing, he would start thinking about unnecessary things.

…Like the woman reclining on his sofa.

"Keats, I'm going home now," Ellen said. She stood, gathered her belongings, and after a quick wave, disappeared. Free.

The sudden wave of claustrophobia was nauseating.

_A bitter thought, Freedom_.

Keats scowled and resumed his typing.

******

* * *

**

41. Impossible

****************************************************************

"There's just no way…" Keats muttered.

"Done!" Ellen cried happily. She held one piece of the metal puzzle in each hand, and showed it to Scarecrow. He grinned gleefully.

"Uwee hee, good job, Ellen!"

"Looks like a loss today, Sir Keats," Belgae said with a sigh.

"She must have gotten an easier one," Keats growled, still tinkering.

"Would you like help, Keats?" Ellen quipped.

"Go ahead! I don't see how this is supposed to train us for the Netherworld anyway."

Seconds later, Ellen handed the separated puzzle back to Keats before skipping off with Scarecrow. Keats shook his head.

"Impossible."

* * *

**21. Close**

"Oh! You're injured, aren't you?"

"No, I'm- "

Ignoring Keats' stream of protests, Ellen dragged him from his sitting position next to the Church, and over to his base.

"Ellen! I'm fine! I just need…" Keats collapsed onto the sofa, eyes drifting shut. Ellen knelt on the floor until she heard his breathing relax.

_He looks so peaceful…_ Ellen yawned. _Maybe I'll…_

…..

Keats awoke to see Ellen's face directly in front of him. He sat up abruptly, slightly uncomfortable.

He glanced at the sleeping woman, and with a tired sigh, wondered when (and _how_) she had gotten so close.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************

* * *

****FIN Haha, too much OOCness? :O Till next time! **


	4. 38, 74, 6, 66, 49

**AN:** **Okay, okay, so this is gonna be the last update for a while, because I am currently swimming in workload D:**  
**Aaaand, in case you haven't already noticed, I do support EllenxKeats. So yeeah. There may be some mildly implied romance involved ^^ If you read into it.**

* * *

**38. Protect**

Her Guardian - that was his role. That was what Belgae had told him anyway. And it was also what he kept telling himself over and over. It was merely his duty to watch over her in the Netherworld, and he would happily fulfill this tiny requirement for the sake of his scoop.

_For the sake of his scoop_. Not for the naïve woman who kept putting herself into these sticky situations.

It was therefore only natural, that he should risk life and limb to protect her from the dark, mutated creature that scarecrow had become, before their very eyes.

* * *

**74. Secret**

Ganconer knew straight away, who, or rather what, Keats was. Odd thing was, the poor bloke himself didn't even know. Usually, _their_ kind knew straight away, that they weren't quite… living.

He watched as the man made his way to a stool and slumped onto it.

"Ah… Ye look exhausted," Ganconer noted.

Keats sighed. "It's tiring, talking to people who won't listen."

"Well… some people can be pretty ignorant," Ganconer said carefully.

"Tch. 'Rude' is probably more accurate."

Ganconer pushed a bottle towards him. "Maybe ye'll understand someday."

_But until ye're ready, this is something ye don't need to know._

* * *

**6. Alone**

From the age of 5 onwards, Ellen grew up alone. Her father had died, her mother had abandoned her, and she was left in an orphanage. Insecure and timid, Ellen was unable to make a single close friend.

The idea that anyone who existed could be as socially inadequate as herself was inconceivable. That is, until she met Keats.

The journalist didn't think much of friendship or non-professional relationships, being too absorbed in his work. Articles, scoops, deadlines. It was strange, knowing that at least you weren't alone in your loneliness.

Perhaps, it was even something one could build upon.

* * *

**66. Temptation**

Nothing tempted Keats more than an experience that would create a potentially amazing article for Unknown Realm. So when Belgae first told him about the Netherworld, Keats' curiosity was instantly roused, and the temptation to travel between the realms of the so-called Land of the Dead, could not be resisted.

But of all things he came across during his Netherworld adventure, there was one that caught Keats' attention in the most bizarre and unusual way. _(Freeze. Stare. Blink. Blink some more.)_

Ellen's. Cloak. Of. _Twilight._

And from then on, a new seed of temptation had been sown into his mind.

* * *

**49. White Lie**

Suzette's head was currently spinning. It was to be expected, considering what she had just seen, peeking into Keats' base. As for why she was snooping around to begin with… well that wasn't important anyway.

"Suzette?"

"Eearghh! A-ah, Ellen! Fancy seeing you here!"

"Are you alright? You look a little pale…" Ellen's eyes widened. "Oh… You didn't overhear us did you?"

_OverSAW, more like!_ "No!" Suzette yelped. "G-gotta go now, so bye!"

Ellen watched her take off, slightly confused, but relieved at the same time. A smile crept onto her face.

"At least she doesn't know about Keats and I..."

* * *

**FIN. Bahahaha I've always wanted to write about Ganconer. In fact, I think I'll try to put as many characters as possible in here. Ellen and Keats are still the focus. What did you guys think about the last one? I keep thinking they're hiding their secret vampiric identities XD I don't know...**

**Review? I might be tempted to update sooner... hehe, hanks for reading, everyone! Until next time,  
-BLITZ**


	5. 45, 91, 85, 70, 58

**Hello ladies and gentlemen! How've you all been? :)  
Sorry it's been forever since I've updated, but... uh, hey! This story is now 1/4 finished! Haha, exciting, right? No? **

**Fine, on with the fanfiction!**

* * *

**45. Comatose  
****  
**Herve pushed past the doctor and ran past the empty beds until he found the one Cecilia was occupying because she- she was-

Herve sank to his knees and sobbed. Doctor Lester watched the young boy with tired eyes. It was bad enough that Herve didn't have much longer to live, but now…?

Herve stood abruptly and faced the doctor resolutely. "Is there anything I can do?"

Doctor Lester shook his head. "Herve…"

"Anything!"

"She's lost a lot of blood, Herve…"

Then, the young boy said four words that would haunt the doctor until his death.

"Could she take mine?"

* * *

**91. Player  
****  
**He gritted his teeth in frustration as he watched the girl sitting at the counter, talking to the bartender. He was rich, handsome (the ladies freakin' loved him!), so he couldn't comprehend why she wouldn't come over and notice him already.

A tall man with glasses entered the bar, and strode towards the girl. Wilde's eyes bugged as he saw her smile tentatively at the man and gesture at the stool next to her. He lost to _that guy?_

Wilde left Doolin the next day. There were always other grand money-making schemes, and plenty of fish in the sea anyway.

* * *

**85. Imagination**

"What are you doing?"

"Shhh!"

Herve bit his lip. He was dying to know what on earth Cecilia was doing, but he knew he was probably better off doing what she said.

Finally Cecilia removed her hands from her eyes and blew out dejectedly. She eyed Herve, and pouted.

"It didn't work…"

Herve smiled apologetically. "What didn't work?"

Cecilia looked around suspiciously before leaning close to Herve's ear.

"The faeries," she whispered."You have to be quiet. And cover your eyes, 'cause they don't like to be seen."

"O-okay…"

No matter how ridiculous he felt, Herve always had fun around Cecilia.

* * *

**70. Oasis  
****  
**"Well, look who's here!"

Keats blinked. "Charlie?"

"Theeee one and only!" The halflive beamed. "Actually, I reckon that it's good you came here! You, of all people, need to chill out very once in a while."

"…I'm on an errand."

"Always on the job, aren't you?"

"What's it to you?"

"I just think you should loosen up a little," Charlie said conversationally. "Oh, I brought my saxophone!"

"Belgae really needs this done…"

"How're things going with _Ellen_?"

Keats raised his hands in defeat. "Fine! Look, after I'm done, I'll come back and listen to you play, deal?"

"Deal!" Charlie grinned.

* * *

**58. Test  
****  
**"Ellen Reid."

The blonde girl fiddling with her hair on the third row jumped out of her seat in alarm, and made her way to the front of the classroom, eyes downcast. Only when the professor held out her paper, did she dare raise her eyes. A flash of a smile crossed the professor's face, so quickly that Ellen would have missed it if she blinked.

"Susan Ross."

Ellen returned to her desk area, fingers tightly gripping her test paper. Her jaw slackened.

_Full marks?_

Still dazed, Ellen made a mental note to thank Keats for his supplementary teaching services.

* * *

**25 down, 75 to go! Seems like a lot, actually :( but this story is fun to write so...**

**It's actually pretty difficult to stick to the 100 word restriction. But I guess I like a challenge.**

**NO I DO NOT THINK WILDE IS GOOD LOOKING. Buuut like I said before, I wanted to have lots of characters in this xD**

**Tell me what you think! Later! **


	6. 12, 25, 42, 31, 94

**AN: **Hohoho! Blitz here, bringing you another update on 100 secrets moments and memories! Remember to have some imagination for errr... behind the scenes character development just so some of these drabbles seem more realistic :)

Aaaaand sorry if Ellen seems kind of ridiculous. I don't know why, but I love making her kinda crazy XD

* * *

**12. Pieces**

Ellen was taking a stroll, when she overheard Keats and Suzette arguing.

"That's too big!"

"Yeah?"

"Ugh, told you it wouldn't fit!"

Ellen's eyes widened. S-She couldn't just stand there!

"Stop in the name of purity!"

The pair on the ground looked up at her. Then Ellen saw the cause of their frustrations.

"…A jigsaw?"

"Are you gonna help us out or what?" Suzette snapped.

Ellen analysed the pieces. She put them together in five minutes, ignoring Suzette's offer to show her a picture of it.

"Just call me Puzzle Master Ellen!" she said, grinning at her currently speechless companions.

* * *

**25. I know**

"K-Keats?"

Keats acknowledged the woman who had just stumbled out of the Pub with a nod. Ellen sluggishly made her way towards him.

"You've had too much to drink," he chided. "I'll take you home."

When they reached her hut he saw that her eyes were red.

"Keats… Why is it so… difficult?"

Keats didn't know what to say, but he knew he couldn't leave Ellen like this. The scoop doesn't progress without Ellen, after all.

So he placed a firm hand on her shoulder and spoke.

"I know."

And she believed him, because his understanding was all she needed.

* * *

**42. Smile**

"So… What exactly did you say you liked about her again?"

"O-ohh…That's easy… ummm…"

Keats resisted the urge to smack a hand onto his forehead. What was he doing here? He was no love counsellor, no matter what kind of warped role model Jimmy had turned him into.

"Oh!" Jimmy's face lit up. "It's her smile."

Normally Keats would have mentally groaned at the tacky response, but a sudden revelation at Jimmy's words intrigued him.

"Frizzie… smiles?"

He regretted the words ever slipping out of his mouth, however, when a shadow shaped like a certain banshee loomed over him menacingly.

* * *

**31. Black**

"Keats?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is your trench coat purple?"

Keats sighed. Their conversations were getting far too ridiculous.

"Why don't you tell me? You designed it!"

"Oh… So I did."

Silence. Until the next question was fired.

"Do you like it?"

"…I don't dislike it."

"Would you rather wear black?"

"Ellen…"

He endured another hour of questioning until he kicked her out.

That night, Ellen dreamed of a man in black, wearing a top hat and high collar. The man slowly turned around. She screamed.

Ellen woke, shivering. She made a mental note to tell Keats he suited purple just fine.

* * *

**94. Pain**

Ellen knows pain. She has felt the sting of battle, felt her skin tear, had grazes, and bruises, and she is _definitely_ no stranger to the red liquid that belongs inside her veins, rather than splattered on the ground.

Yet this doesn't bother Ellen, because she knows a kind of pain that runs deeper than external wounds.

She wishes her tears would stop counting her losses, but it is during these times that Keats comes and sits beside her. He doesn't do anything more, nor does she expect more from him, but it hurts a little less when he's there.

* * *

**Until next time ^^**


	7. 27  Christmas Special!

**AN: Hey there *smile* ummmm, sorry I've been neglecting this story for a while... and I've been evilly keeping this on my computer for a while too. **

**Presenting The Christmas Special! Where instead of the usual five 100-word prompts, I have just written 500 words for one prompt.**

**Merry Christmas everyone! (Hope you like E x K _;;)**

* * *

**27. Mistletoe**

Joyous, mirthful, good-natured, uproarious, ridiculous, downright _irritating_ laughter filled the frosty air. It was fair to say that Keats wasn't so fond of Christmas. It wasn't like he was the Scrooge of Doolin, per se, but he just found that some of the ludicrous things people did in the hype of the holiday fever… well, ludicrous.

Giving up his quest for sleep, Keats dragged his feet to the Bridgehouse pub to see what the ruckus was about.

He found Ellen sitting at the counter talking to Fir Darrig, cheeks flushed, drink in hand. Upon seeing him, she beckoned him over.

"Keats, have a drink!"

"…Just one, then."

One turned into one more, plus three, then a few more he shouldn't have had. Keats suddenly felt the counter was slanting a little (why weren't the glasses sliding off?) and there were two Ellens. Or three. No… Keats shook his head. Just one. He was trying hard to keep his composure, but it was so difficult when Ellen was making all those strange noises and hand gestures. Abruptly, her face froze and she slowly raised her finger. Keats' eyes trailed upwards until he saw, with building dread what was dangling directly above them. Flustered, he wondered how he could have missed it.

There was a sudden hush in the pub, and Keats had the faintest inkling that they'd been set up. Even Ellen was looking at him expectantly. No. He must've been imagining things.

Keats glared at the halflives around them and stumbled out of his seat, straightening once he found his balance.

"Fine. You guys win…" Keats declared sluggishly. "But just this once."

With as much precision as he could muster, he placed his index finger on Ellen's cheek. She could only stare with her big green eyes, which were, in Keats' honest opinion, really quite beautiful. Wait. Keats could've smacked a palm onto his face. It was probably better to get this over and done with quickly.

"Hold still, okay?" Keats muttered. Still with those green eyes, he thought with a scowl as he plunged forward…

… and he missed. Cheers erupted in the pub as Keats felt a pair of arms clumsily make their way around his neck. To say he was in shock was an understatement.

_Oh, to hell with it then_, he thought, and he placed his hands on Ellen's waist as her lips moved against his own.

Fir Darrig snickered as he watched the couple from the bar counter. Ganconer eyed him carefully.

"It was you who passed them all those drinks, wasn't it?"

Fir Darrig grinned at Ganconer who shook his head. The halflive rat doubled over hysterically when he saw Keats trip when he hit the bar stool leg. Ganconer looked over in alarm, but the Messenger and her Guardian had merely passed out on the floor.

"And," Ganconer continued, looking at the small plant dangling on a string above the counter, "I bet that wasn't even mistletoe."

Fir Darrig smirked. "Not even close!"

* * *

**FIN**


	8. 57, 60, 72, 82, 67

**AN: Ah. Thought it'd be a shame to leave this on my computer :) so here's for anyone still reading...maybe...**

* * *

**57. Friend**

"Scarecrow…" Ellen gasped as she saw the halflive on the ground, the traces of his monster-like form dissolving into the air like smoke. She stumbled towards him, before collapsing on the ground, clutching her chest. Her heart (soul?) was raging as though the essence that she had just absorbed was causing a storm inside her.

Her eyes squeezed shut and memories flashed behind them – she was under the henge, crying over thoughts of Herve– a chirpy voice called her – and–

"…Sorry, Ellen."

Ellen's eyes stung behind their lids. "Thank you, Scarecrow…"

_You were my friend when I needed it most._

* * *

**60. Future****  
**  
"You'll be older than me soon," Keats drawled. Ellen stilled for a moment.

"I suppose so."

She resumed eating her cake slice.

"…Why are you here?" Keats groused. Ellen looked puzzled. "Can't I spend my birthday here?"

"Every year?" he retorted. "Rather than in the real world? With real friends?"

"This is plenty real to me," Ellen muttered. Keats shook his head. "To you."

"Is it so wrong to enjoy the present?" she murmured, almost to herself.

There were a lot of things he could have said to that if only his throat wasn't so damn dry.

"Well… happy twenty-seventh."

* * *

**72. Shooting star  
**  
Keats didn't believe in making wishes. The '_prettiness_' of the fleeting white streak in the sky didn't make it any less irrational either.

"Okay I'm done," Ellen said smiling softly. She turned to him with moonlight glinting off her eyes, tinted a deeper green in the night. "What did you wish for?"

Keats would've opened his mouth to retort but Ellen hastily pressed her fingers against his lips.

"O-Oh. I'm sorry," Ellen breathed, eyes wide. She retracted her hand. "Just – I forgot, you aren't supposed to tell people your wish."

Keats just sighed and shook his head. "You're really something."

* * *

**82. Goodbye****  
**  
Keats always had the impression that the word "goodbye" meant "bye for good". Ellen did not seem to share his view.

After her first goodbye he had assumed that she would never be coming back. Ever. He was therefore surprised when she came back minutes later to recollect her forgotten hat. She came back the next day and so on (and there went the next few goodbyes), until eventually she made regular visits at least once a week.

He didn't know how long it would last but alarmingly, he found he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.

* * *

**67. Hero******

"Ya saved the Netherworld, y'know. You're a hero!" Charlie said grinning.

"I've never thought of myself as a hero," Keats muttered. "Isn't Ellen the great Netherworld heroine? I'm apparently some lackey given powers because the need arose and I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"HellRealm," Ellen murmured quietly, finally breaking her silence and joining in the conversation.

"Pardon me?"

"You saved _me_," she pointed out simply. She regarded him with soft eyes. "I suppose that makes you my hero."

Keats frowned slightly in response – Ellen just smiled to herself because he didn't deny it.


End file.
